The best
moment of the morning came, however, when the
pastor of the ship faced me, goggle-eyed and mar-
veling.
``I wouldn't have believed it,'' was all he could
say. ``I thought the men would mob you.''
``Why should they mob me?'' I wanted to know.
``Why,'' he stammered, ``because the thing is so
--so--unnatural.''
``Well,'' I said, ``if it is unnatural for women to
talk to men, we have been living in an unnatural
world for a long time. Moreover, if it is unnatural,
why did Jesus send a woman out as the first preach-
er?''
He waived a discussion of that question by invit-
ing us all to his cabin to drink wine with him--and
as we were ``total abstainers,'' it seemed as un-
natural to us to have him offer us wine as a woman's
preaching had seemed to him.
The next European incident on which memory
throws a high-light was our audience with Pope
Leo XIII. As there were several distinguished
Americans in our party, a private audience was ar-
ranged for us, and for days before the time appointed
we nervously rehearsed the etiquette of the oc-
casion. When we reached the Vatican we were
marched between rows of Swiss Guards to the
Throne Room, only to learn there that we were to
be received in the Tapestry Room. Here we found
a very impressive assemblage of cardinals and
Vatican officials, and while we were still lost in the
beauty of the picture they made against the room's
superb background, the approach of the Pope was
announced.
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